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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549901">Free Fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janara/pseuds/Janara'>Janara</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Between the Lines [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon Universe, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dreams, Established Relationship, Fluff, Intimacy, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Aziraphale and Crowley's Bodyswap (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), The Fall (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:01:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janara/pseuds/Janara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, he dreams of falling.</p><p>***<br/>Written for the SOSH 'Guess the Author' round 8 - "dream"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Between the Lines [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SOSH - Guess the Author #8 "dream"</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Free Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes, he dreams of falling.</p><p>Of a push against his core. A lurch and twist and a weightless soar that his wings cannot carry him through.<br/>
Of light, thin air growing heavy. Embracing him, enfolding him, cloying, smothering…<br/>
Of screeching voices. Of ozone turning sour. The taste of blood that will one day flow in his veins on a tongue yet to be formed. The sickly sweet scent of sulphur filling lungs not yet given to him.<br/>
He dreams of fire licking at his wings, biting into what will be ruined nerves, setting them ablaze. He dreams of feathers being scorched black. Freeing and painful and ravenous…<br/>
Sometimes he dreams of shattering apart. </p><p>Arms are holding him, drawing him in, gentle and persistent. He thinks he should struggle but something deep down whispers of comfort. Of a warmth that will not consume. Not against his will…</p><p>"Aziraphale."</p><p>He draws in a harsh breath he does not need. Steadies the beat of his superfluous heart, composes himself before he will open his eyes.<br/>
There are fingers in his hair now. Tender and frail and barely touching. </p><p>"There is a reason sleep is overrated." His voice sounds firm. Collected. –  Good.</p><p>A low huff of laughter. The hand glides out of his hair and across his temple, coming to rest on his cheek with that lovely firm pressure that is always just perfect.</p><p>"Same one again?"</p><p>"Mm." </p><p>He turns to his side. Sacrifices the comfort of cool fingers on his skin for being allowed to look into Crowley's eyes as he opens his own.<br/>
The demon smiles at him. His smile lives in his eyes, he thinks. Not in the crinkles that frame them and sometimes spell annoyance. Nor on his mouth that expresses all sorts of exquisite things but never smiles without an edge. Never curls without a trace of challenge or tension.<br/>
No, his smile lives in his eyes…</p><p>He sighs. Reaches out to brush his fingertips over the demon's furrowed brow. Wishing to erase the worry hiding in the frown.</p><p>"Angel, I'm – "</p><p>"Don't."</p><p>He presses his fingers against pinched lips, does not want to hear it. </p><p>"Don't be sorry. We knew the risks. Knew there might be aftereffects."</p><p>A flicker of breath against his fingertips.</p><p>"I don't mind." He says, his fingers leaving the lips to follow the line of a clenched jaw, hoping to ease the strain clinging to it. "I gladly share your nightmares, if that's the price for our continued existence."</p><p>Crowley closes his eyes. Exhales with a long drawn sigh.</p><p>"I wish you wouldn't have them in the first place." He murmurs, sliding his hand into soft hair. "I don't understand how you can be so fond of sleeping, if you relive it again and again."</p><p>"I don't care. It's a reminder." Crowley's eyes open and the smile is back in them. Small and glittering and fervent. "It's not about the fall. The fall doesn't matter. It's about what one makes out of it."</p>
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